Broken
by LoverOfThings
Summary: A international manhunt takes an unexpected turn when two dangerous form an alliance. Will this prove too much for then penguin unit to handle after their lives are just barely hanging on a thread? I personally apologize to Skipper in advance. Humanized. First story ever!
1. Beginning

AN: So, this is my first story ever! Did other people feel like this on their first story. Haha I hope so. Anyway...

Plot summary: A international manhunt takes an unexpected turn when two dangerous form an alliance. Will this prove too much for then penguin unit to handle after their lives are just barely hanging on a thread? I personally apologize to Skipper in advance. Humanized

* * *

Skipper didn't know which was louder. The constant, dead buzzing of the alarm begging for attention, the noise of his heart beating in his ears, or the annoying barking of the dogs chasing him. Ah yes, those very _distracting_ things. He would focus on one of these noises, which would distract hi from his current goal. Which was running away.

He had been running in a fast, continuous pace for the last few blocks now. Any distraction could make him slow down, which was not an option. Not under these circumstances. His been pushing out his paranoia all night. What's Kowalski doing that he couldn't be here? Was he captured? Where was Private and Rico? Were they even alive? Skipper didn't want to think about that one. It was only at that point that he welcomed the loud annoyance of the pounding in his ears.

What Skipper really wanted to know, was what was going on. Obviously, when he went on this easy mission tonight, he did not expect to be separated by his team, while they, and him of course, were being chased by the NYPD K9 unit. You could say that it was a bit unauthorized. He also was a little curious on why in the city that never sleeps, there was no one in the streets. He started near the bad part of the city, and no one was out. No 'bad people' that he's warned his team off of. By now he was close to town square, and there wasn't a soul. It was like a ghost town. Well, except for I'm, his team wherever they were, the dogs, and the people with those dogs.

Really, if it wasn't for the K9 unit, he'd have hidden somewhere, and then gotten away. But the dogs have his scent drenched in their nostrils, and seem bent on getting blood. After all, before he started running, Rico got a big bite in the leg. _That probably slowed him down a lot,_ Skipper thought dryly. He couldn't even get his bearings. He was just running blindly. In his defence, the confusion was just too much. Why were people who knew of his team chasing them? Did they do something wrong? Why were there nobody in the streets?

He knew they would catch him in an instant if he fled off of the middle of the streets. There were people on the sides, chasing him. They were slower than him, thankfully. But they would catch up with him if he turned to the sides. That situation wasn't improved as soon as the leader saw the police car, parked on the street, waiting for him.

_Perfect, _Skipper thought, _this'll be a long night. Hopefully Private and Rico are doing better. _

* * *

Neon Tyler smiled. She was twenty two now, still pretty young, in her mind. So, it was perfectly justified to have an obsession over every Taylor Swift song ever made. Besides, there was no point on even being on this street. There was a call to all people new in the NYPD to not be out today, said the reason was classified. So, Neon Tyler took it as an opportunity to sit back, relax, and listen to some music in the cop car.

She could've listened to music at her apartment. Could have. But a fantasy she had when she joined the police department was to be sitting in a cop car, bobbing her head to music, while she inspected the area. She saw it on a movie once. She thought it looked like a wonderful thing to do on a beautiful summer night.

Tonight was really quiet, she noted a few times. An eerie quiet. The streets looked liked a ghost town. It was so odd for the city that never slept. Did have something to do with the announcement of no new recruits or patrols out tonight? Maybe. But she could faintly hear dogs barking in the distance, so she assumed she was just in a bad place to park.

Still... she was cautious by nature, her conservative look almost proved that. She dressed very plainly, her hair never done, only one streak of green in a cloud of fiery red, and kept her makeup low key. So, she suspected that something was wrong. That something was brewing in the streets of NewYork. Maybe she didn't know who, or why, but she knew it was something.

Her fears were only confirmed when a much older man with a definite flat top, suddenly burst into her car and ordered her to drive away, a gun pointed at her temple.

* * *

"I can't thank you enough for this Kowalski."

The man smiled, handing the woman her cellphone. "It's nothing Marlene." He said sincerely.

Marlene grinned at her newly, fully upgraded, cellphone. "No, it is. Trust me. Do you realize what would've happened if you hadn't of come to do this?"

"You would've had to hire someone?"

Marlene couldn't help but chuckle. She hardly ever hears Kowalski make a joke, so she quickly learned that every attempt must be appreciated. "So, where are the rest of the guys tonight?"

Kowalski started to pack up his stuff. It wasn't much, but the explanations of what he intended to do with them to the phone was enough to make the woman speechless. So, his intelligence was noticed yet again. "They went out on a mission. They should have been back by now though. Let me call them." He pulled out his own technological superior phone, and punched in the familiar buttons to his teammates number.

The phone rung for a few moments. Which wasn't that suspicious, Kowalski decided. Finally, the man on the other end picked up.

"Kowalski?" The voice was in a hushed whisper. "This is really a bad time!"

It took one moment to figure out that Private had been panting. So, he knew that he had been doing some sort of physical restraining activity. "Why? Are you alright? Where's Skipper and Rico?"

There was an almost deathly pause. Kowalski could hear rustling on the other side. What was happening? Was the rest of the team in some kind of trouble? Impossible. All they had to do for the mission tonight was get some plans for a future mission that was scheduled. How could that possibly go wrong? O, rather, how could the rest of the team not be handled for it?

"Can't talk!" Private screamed this time and Kowalski had to take the phone away from his ear. "Running! Can you get to-"

Kowalski threw the phone on the ground next to Marlene's feet, making the girl flinch. His body was shaking now from fear, confusion and worry. The line between his phone and Private's had gone dead before his young comrade could finish his sentence.

* * *

"Neon Tyler? Please, if you're _alive_ please pick up."

The girl whimpered. The person talking behind the radio was her boss. He had always seemed so strong, so optimistic. Now, she could hear his voice breaking, begging to know that the young girl was alive.

Skipper raised his eyebrows. The gun was still focused on her temple. "Neon Tyler?"

The girl hesitated, but nodded. Her hands were still on the steering wheel, still driving away from the K9 units. "Neon Tyler?"

She had to build up some courage to answer. "Y-yes. My first name's Neon, and my last name's Tyler. But everyone seems to call me by first and last name. I thought it sounded good."

The man nodded in understanding. "Yeah. My name's Skipper. It's kinda an odd name, huh? You better turn here."

Neon Tyler grinned. Her hands stayed, not turning the car. "Is this always how you handle a hostage situation while being chased?"

"Is this how you handle being a hostage? Disobeying orders from the person who has a gun at your head? Besides, I have no idea why I'm being chased, anyway."

"So why are you running?"

"Why are you not turning?"

She giggled. "You know, you remind me a bit of superman. Except you're a bit grouchy."

Skipper stayed silent awhile. Neon Tyler almost thought he was going to shoot her. Until he answered, "Yeah, but I guess I'm wearing the wrong costume."

Suddenly, Skipper heard a shot. He recognized it immediately, rifiles. He hardly had anytime to turn his head before the glass from the car windshield shattered, a scream rang out, and his vision went red. Blood red.


	2. Is Neon Tyler dead?

AN: Second chapter! Hope it's better than last chapter. I found a lot of mistakes. So, lets hope this one is better.

* * *

For once, Rico was terrified.

He wasn't scared at any other time until now, though. Before the chase, he was bit in the leg painfully, but that didn't scare him as much as now. He wasn't that scared when he got separated by Skipper and Private. No, none of those scared him. But as soon as he heard rifle fire, and the sound of broken glass- not to mention that horrible scream- was enough to chill the pyschopath. Who screamed? The young, innocent, sweet Private? Or his resourceful leader that he admired? Until he knew, the hair on his neck would stand.

He ducked his head down slightly when he heard the gunfire. The bite in his leg was burning from all the fire, but the sound of the helicopter flying overtop him. The spotlight hadn't landed on him yet, but judging from the fact that he was _attempting _to hide on a rooftop, he guessed it was only a matter of time. He had crawled up an a ladder leading to the roof of the building he was on. It took him five tries. Mostly because he was too close the dogs chasing him, and had to attempt each time to not get his legs mangled. By now, his life was in the hands of chance. Scratch that, laying on the tightrope of luck. He was in the wide open, the only thing hiding me was his hands o his head. He could vomit up something to protect him or give him an edge, but he as just a little bit too paranoid that they would find him sooner. Whoever they were for that matter.

Rico inhaled deeply. Now that he heard the gunfire and the scream, he was certain that he had to get a move on. To get somewhere where the enemy wasn't. Although at the moment, the enemy was, for all he knew, his friends. When he was first bitten in the leg, the first face he saw was a friend he had in the NYPD named Jeremy. He recognized his dark features, his olive skin and black hair. But most importantly he recognized his friend's brown eyes, and he knew the expression Jeremy had when he wanted someone's blood. He had that look on.

He exhaled his breath. He couldn't wait any longer. He had to get _somewhere. _He felt the muscles in his legs tense up, his arms raised and tilted, ready for a run. He waited until the spotlight from the chopper was gone from his path he had decided to take, and split second later he was racing off.

A light hit him when he took the first few steps, and he started to panic. They've probably locked in on him, ready to take a shot. Adrenaline was kicking in now. His feet felt like blades of grass, and it was effortless to put one in front of the other. There wasn't much space to cover before he was at the edge of the building, and thinking of what to do next. The spotlight on him, he could hear people cocking their guns, aiming on him. Another scream filled the air as he jumped. He wasn't exactly sure if the yell was his or not.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see him possible demise, as he hadn't taken any effort to look below him before he fell. He remembered glass breaking, the sound propelled in his ears, and seconds later pain throughout his body, like he was being cut in all parts of his body. A window. Or maybe a skylight. He wasn't sure but he knew he probably fell through one of those things. What was-?

He had a quick sensation of falling. Then, it felt like his body belly flopped onto something. Something hard and, warm. Another person? A sauna? It could've been anything. He couldn't get an attempt to see before his closed eye vision went darker, and his mind blacked out unexpectedly.

* * *

Was his eyes sealed by blood, he wondered. He just couldn't open them, no matter how hard he tried. Was it the windshield glass? Had someone sealed his eyes in the time he was passed out? Or did he just not have eyes anymore at all? Just the optic nerve that comes with the, begging his brain to open eyes he no longer had.

What his brain was telling him right now, anyway, was to get out. His gut feelings agreed. Had to move. He thrashed his hips from side to side, before he remembered he didn't put on any seat belts, so he was able to stand. His left hip twisted to the side, a he sat up doggy style. His arm reached in front of him, and he felt the metal of the cop car door. It took a moment, but his hand touched the plastic of the door handle, and he twisted it up.

It was almost comical that he fell out of the car, his head first, and after an instinct twist, back first. His tailbone ached as he fell to the concrete of the road. It was only then that he realized he was probably surrounded by men that would have taken the opportunity of his predicament to capture him. Still, his only thoughts were to get out.

He tried to get his bearings. What was off to the left side again? A tree line, yes, that was it. He got hide in the tree line and attempt to open his eyes, or at least figure out the situation. Despite how much his tailbone was burning in pain, he started to crawl straight. Where he one, or at least hoped the safe tree line was.

It would only take a minute to crawl to the trees, and he dreaded that. It would mean he had to think. He had mostly questions though. What happened to Neon Tyler? Did she get out of the car? Was Rico and Private safe? What was happening with Kowalski? He stayed home for the mission, so did the people go to their house? Take him in at gunpoint for questioning on where the rest of them might be hiding? Who were the people that wanted his team so badly anyway? What did they want? The chase had been throughout the city of NewYork after all, so it must've been pretty important.

He felt grass on his hands. He must have finally made it. He stood up, despite his tailbones disagreement, and walked forward until he felt the leaves of trees hitting his face, then he collapsed on the ground. The pulled handfuls of grass out of the ground in satisfaction. He stopped quickly though, remembering his situation. He had to try and open his eyes. He had to know what was going on. He sighed, and forced his eyelids up. It seemed hopeless, until he saw a sliver of light. Excited, he tried again, getting a better outcome. His eyes were half open now, and he could just make out a tall, lean looking person... standing right in front of him. Instinctively, he stood up and got ready for a fight. Even though his eyes were only half open.

"Geez Skipper!" The man cried. "Calm down! We gotta get you out of here! Come on!"

Skipper sighed in relief. One of the only three men in the world he would ever truly trust. Gratefully, he let his teammate help him into their car, parked right beside the now burning car that he was in moments ago. Someone must have lit it on fire. As he toppled onto the cushions of the units car, he felt a wave of grief that he didn't know if his hostage was still in that cop car or not.

* * *

Kowalski grinned at his leader in the backseat. He was flopped on the cushions, belly first.

"I want explanations, Kowalski!" Skipper growled into the cushions of leather. The scientist's face got serious. He turned another corner, being relieved that there was no police.

"Well, in a nutshell? As you would say, we're screwed. I don't know exactly what happened to you and the the rest of the team on the mission, but from what I can see, nearly every NYPD member is after us. I was at Marlene's when I called Private to see what was keeping you, and then in the middle of hi sentence the line went dead. So I left in a hurry and saw how the only people on the streets were police, and I barely slipped away from them. I think they were staking out our house the government gave us for our unit. So then I checked your cellphone GPS chips I installed in each of your cellphones. That's how I found you. According to the chip, Rico is in a greenhouse, and I can guarantee you it's surrounded."

"And Private?"

"...Don't know." Kowalski admitted sadly. "I checked where the GPS was when it went dead, and he was nearing the woods jut outside of NewYork. But if the line died in the middle of his sentence..." He let the sentence hang, letting his leader imagine what he was purposing.

Skipper looked up to stare at the back of Kowalski's head. "We get Rico out first, then we find Private. Understood?"

"Then what?"

"Then we swing back to the place where you found me. There's a certain cop car I need to look at."

"Mind if i ask why, sir?"

"I think my hostage is dead."


	3. Craziness

AN: This is dedicated to everyone who reviewed! Thanks for having such wonderful things to say for my first story!

* * *

"Well, you were sure right when you said it was surrounded, Kowalski."

The scientist nodded in sad agreement. Cops were everywhere around the greenhouse, helicopters were flying overtop, their spotlights shining, people were out in the open carrying shotguns, rifiles, and pistols. Streetlights had been shut down, there were little groups of six roaming around as patrols. It would've looked like a war zone if it weren't for the perfectly reserved buildings. The two men had parked there car quiet a ways away, but only because they couldn't get any closer. Every street in a two mile radius was being searched and patrolled through. Kowalski and Skipper always ad to keep a move to hide from them, and even then they were just slipping away from the cops eyes by a millisecond.

It was now that the two men realized how bad there situation truly was.

"Well, if it helps, I think we're in a safe spot right now. Nobody has tried to disturb this spot yet."

"We're hiding in a tower of garbage cans that we made. This is the sorta thing you would see in 'rescue mission gone wrong'. Do you see Rico being hauled out yet?"

Kowalski couldn't but smile slightly. He supposed their new hiding spot did look a bit foolish. Four metal garbage cans surrounded the two, giving them hardly any room to move, and two cans piled on top of them. It took maybe thirty seconds to put together-which was really the only time they had- and it was a huge surprise to both of them that no one had bothered to investigate the tower of cans. It was one of the mistakes the NYPD were making that were saving their lives.

The tallest of the two peered through an opening between cans. Besides an ambulance waiting for an injured person, no one was getting into it. Kowalski guessed that it was for Rico, but after twenty minutes without it getting a passenger, he discarded that option. For emergencies of the NYPD members? He discarded that option too after remembering that they were only after four men. Three of which were older than some of these cops, and one that would never hurt someone so much to send them to a hospital. There were people crowding around every inch of the building, but no one was really going in.

"No. I think Rico's still in there." He paused. "I think they're waiting for us."

Skipper frowned. He hated this situation. Not knowing exactly why this was happening. People traping him so he couldn't help his teammates. Having so many questions with so little answers. No answers actually. Most of all, he hated that these people thought they've beaten him. He hated losing. He hated giving up. And, he decided, tonight is not gonna be the night he does both. Not by a long shot.

* * *

Rico groaned in pain. Although, it was more like agony. It felt like every part of his body was crying. Without checking, he knew glass was sticking into his skin. Did he have any broken bones? Who knew how high he fell. And the bed of broken glass probably didn't help his landing either. He coud see though. That was a saving grace. It didn't do much help though. All he could see was dak outlines of objects, since it was so dark. The only light was coming from the broken skylight, and that was just iluminating him.

Oh but could he hear. There was sounds everywhere coming from the skylight. Cars screeching and honking, an ambulance horn. A helicopters flying above, ffeet stomping on concrete, and every once in a while the sound of metal hitting metal. He desperately wanted to know what was happening, but he was face up, feeling shards in his back, and every bone in his body ached and he couldn't do anything but lie. He couldn't even turn his head to the side. Although, he subconsciously didn't want to, because he knew that beside him was a puddle of his own blood, and if he saw that he would either pass out again, or wish that he may never be able to move again. So, to pass the time, without asking himself questions, he laid there listening.

"Rico?"

His eyes widened a little at his leader's voice. How did he _possibly_ get in here? Surely the NYPD had this place surrounded. Rico was the weapon supply line, so he couldn't have any weapons, could he? Rio groaned in pain yet again and heard foot steps rushing towards him. He used the last bit of strength and lifted his head up. His dark hair fell to the sides, and he got a clear look at who was rushing to him.

Skipper, his flattop was always easy to recognize. He had blood on him too, which made Rico feel a little better. Glad he wasn't the only one who was bleeding. When the leader kneeled next to him, Rico made a face because he smelled so bad. An intense smell of blood, trash, and sweat. After a closer look, Rico realized Skipper also had a pistol in his hands.

"Wha' 'appened?" Rico asked, his voice cracking and Skipper knew he was at the end of his strength.

Worried, Skipper started to pick shards out his teammates skin. "Well, you fell into a greenhouse. Don't know what you were thinking. I was nearly killed in a cop car, but managed to get out. Met a girl too, her name was Neon Tiger. Wait, no it was Tyler. Anyway, we found out where you were, hijacked an ambulance, stole a couple of pistols, and in a minute or two Kowalski is going to crash through that wall," he pointed to the farthest wall from them, "and then we're gonna go find Private. Who we have no idea where he is." He sighed and stood up. "So... where do ya wanna go for Christmas?"

Rico grinned, blood in his mouth. "Mexico."

"Really? Oh, yeah I guess I see it. We could go on a justice spree. Stop crime and stuff. Do you think it'd be warm? You know how I hate being cold."

Rico had no time to even consider an answer. In an instant, it was like the world exploded. When Rico thinks about it, he doesn't remember seeing the ambulance coming through the wall, but he did see the debris. A mix of plaster and concrete spiralled away rom the far wall, leaving a cloud of dust in the air. As the dust cleared, he could only see a fragment of crimson from the ambulance. It happened so quick that that was the only thing he could remember. The debris, the dust, and then the colour.

Skipper immediately sprang into action. He gave his friend a reassuring smile, and carefully, but quickly, slid his hands underneath Rico's back. He grimaced when he felt a squishy, dry liquid on is back, and had to take a deep breath. He pressed his arms further, until he could see his bloody fingertips on the other side of his friend. Kowalski had already opened the large back door of the ambulance, and Skipper could hear him yelling at him to hurry up.

He sighed, tensing up his muscles in his legs, hoping they had the strength to lift his teammate. Even his arms were tensing up. There was a slight hesitation, and then Rico was up in the air. Skipper was grateful he had enough energy, and without any more thoughts, ran to the ambulance. He doesn't actually remember what happened after that. There are only snipets of memory. Usering Rico into the back, Kowalski telling him something that he forgets, and then somehow being the one at the drivers wheel of the ambulance.

Skipper took a deep breath, backing the vehicle up. Kowalski was mending to Rico's injuries in the back, and they were about to drive into total choas. Next order of buissness was to find Private. He exhaled. Tonight was definitely never gonna end.

* * *

So, they are moving a bit slower, Skipper decided. It took them only ten seconds to shatter the windshield of the ambulance. Whatever. It gave him more ability to see. And get shot at, but he decided not to include that. Skipper was expecting the breaking of windshield, and lowered his head just in time. They weren`t even done backing up yet. Debris was still on the vehicle, and everytime the wheels turned, it sent plaster and glass into his face.

When the ambulance finally finished backing away from the wall of the greenhouse, everyone was acting in confusion. Some people were getting in copcars to chase the three, but in their dash had lost their keys. Others had their guns pointed at the white and red vehicle, but no one daed to gve the order to fire. Others were blindly running up to it, smaking it`s walls with the palms of their hands helicopters were the team`s real problem.

"Which way should I go, Kowalski?" Skipper asked calmly.

"Left. Towards the woods."

Skipper nodded, backing up the ambulance more towards the right, so they were facing left. He yelled a quick warning on how bumby the ride was goning to be and pressed on the gas. He was knocked fully against his seat at how fast they took off. People fearfully jumped out of the way, just barely escaping the vehicle`s path. The people in the helicopters were less fazed and took off after the ambulance. After cocking their guns, the people took aim, and began to shoot.

Skipper swore under his breath. He was at the end of his strength, running on adrenaline. He swerved the steering wheel side to side, making it harder for people to lock on to it. He came to the first turn, and churned the vehicle so much that it nearly toppled over. There were only three turns to go before he would on the highway to the woods. Skipper dreaded that. He knew as soon as they got to that road, the helcopter people would have the best shots on them.

Bullets were breaking through the thin layer of metal now, Skipper cursed as one pireced his shoulder, and started to swerve faster and more recklessly. Each time, the vehicle would almost go completely sideways. He could hear Kowalski and Rico screaming from his driving, but he didn`t care.

It was the thrid turn when the ambulance toppled over. Luckily, it caught on a tree, and was caught sideways. Skipper yelped in surprise and was thrown to the seat beside him._ Not good._ Skipper quickly frailed back up, only staying there because of grabbing the handle of the door, and lifted his feet up and positioning them back onto the pedals. Bullets were flying around him and all he could do was press on the gas pedal. In the time it took two bullets to enter his other shoulder, the ambulance was back on it`s wheels, speeding through the streets.

On the last turn, he could see the woods. Police were surrounding the whole perimeter, helicopters were there too. Skipper was sure Private was somewhere in there. From a distance, he could see people entering the woods blindly, taking their time to inspect each tree. If he could see that by how far away he was, he wondered if how many people were there, and why exactly they were looking so blindly.

_Escape route. Gotta get an escape route._

He found one. Just before the start of the woods, a deep ditch. He decided that it was insane, agreed with himself, and punched the gas even harder, aiming for the ditch.

"Get ready to get out quickly! We're gonna do a flip!" Skipper yelled behind him.

"WHAT?!"

He turned into the ditch. The front wheels of the ambulance caught onto the dip, and tipped the hood. Skipper fell threw the open, broken windshield, and started to run away as fast as he could, scared the whole vehicle would fall on him. The centre of gravity in the ambulance shifted, and the whole thing was tipping over. Skipper felt an intense worry for Kowalski and Rico, since they were in the back, the part that was now tipping. He stopped running to turn, and try to spot his teammates, but quickly, bullets were being shot near him. He could feel the air swishing past him they were that quick.

He raced towards the trees. It was the only safe spot left he could go. He heard Kowalski scream behind him, so he got out. Where did he get shot? Was Rico with him? As soon as he got to the trees, he pushed through the pain in his shoulders and tailbone, and climbed the first tree he saw.

Kowalski and Rico followed soon after, having been able to see where their leader climbed. Rico was a bloody mess, Skipper didn't look that good either, and Kowalski's right arm looked like a mangled piece of meat. All of them were bleeding, sweating, and panting uncontrollably. _Maybe it is a war zone_, Kowalski thought dryly.

Skipper forced a grin. "Well, on the bright side, at least we know that sunshine is probably in here."

Kowalski gave a snort. "Dead or alive?"

That earned a glare from Skipper. "Depression does not work with you, Kowalski. We're stressed enough. Do _not_ make it worse."

"Fine. You're the one who crashed an ambulance."


	4. Will the night ever end?

AN: So, a few of you guessed it. Neon Tyler will show up later in the story. Also, it seems like you guys are going to be introduced to a new person. A person who will become very important very soon. Enjoy!

* * *

It seemed that every time Skipper moved, his body would cry in disagreement. His tailbone ached, his shoulders were on a numb fire, his mind was dizzy, and the rest of his limbs were barely keeping track with what his brain told them. At some points, he'd command his arm to grab a tree branch, and his arm would fail and he would fall a few inches before he would instinctively reach out to save himself. After that, he would ache more than he already was.

How long had he been at this, he wondered. Kowalski and Rico were busy securing an escape route, how long ago did they go and do that? Five minutes? Twenty? An hour? Skipper squatted again, ready to leap to the next tree. His tailbone cried again as his muscles tensed again. He had gotten so used to the pain, that he was able to ignore it a little. Which, was a blessing. His knees were burning too, from the weight of the squat. He finally released the tension in his legs and reached his arms out for the next tree branch of the next tree. His fingertips touched the bark, and he gripped it tightly, letting himself hang right above a three people from the NYPD.

His only strategy in finding Private, was to follow the trail of cops. As he got deeper into the woods, the more people there were. It was a bit risky too. If he was caught, Kowalski and Rico wouldn't be able to help him, and who knows what would happen to Private. He was also keeping an eye open for blood on the ground, or any sign of a struggle. It was just the littlest too dark to see, since it was still night. He could bits and pieces of conversation, but most of i were pointless blabber.

He lifted himself up, letting his legs rest for a moment. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he had an urge to look down. He had these urges a lot, he usually called them his 'gut feelings'. He taught himself a long time ago to listen to his gut feelings. They were usually what got the team out of danger, surprisingly. When he didn't follow his gut instincts, it usually gnawed at him until he did.

He looked down. At first all he saw was leaves and twigs, but then his eyes stumbled upon a pile of the forest junk, piled so much and tall that it looked suspiciously out of place. He stared intently at the spot, he knew in his gut it was hiding something underneath. Then, he saw it. A finger, breaking above the leaves. After closer inspection, he saw that connected to that finger was the outline of a man. He could also see that the area was more red than the rest of the ground.

A young man.

Skipper's mind was panicking. Was that Private? How could it be? The body obviously looked like it was covered up on purpose. So if someone had _killed_ the little guy, they wouldn't have left him here, right? They would've brought him in. It felt like his head was about to explode. What was going on? If he wasn't already deathly confused, he was now.

Another gut feeling; telling him to look to his right. He didn't even question it this time. He looked over, and couldn't at first process what he saw. There, laying his feet across a branch and his back on the trunk, was Private. His blonde hair was almost like a white flag. His head was resting on his shoulder, and his eyes were half closed. Skipper's mouth was gapped open. Was Private no trying to get away as the others had been fighting for their lives?

"Private!" Skipper hissed, wanting to tell him how selfish he was. Private quietly stirred. His eyes opened fully, and he turned his head to look over at his leader.

"Hmm?" The boy answered groggily.

Skipper glared. "What are you doing? Just taking a nap?" He was on the verge of growling. He didn't care that police were casually walking by. Although, he questioned how nobody noticed Private's blonde hair, or the young man's body on the ground.

Private blinked a few times, before he realized what Skipper was saying. "What? Oh, no. Skipper, I can't move."

Skipper gave him a bewildered look. He inspected the boy's legs. They looked fine, no wounds or anything. His chest looked fine too. Skipper scanned his arms, and paused when he saw his right wrist. If you could call it a wrist anymore. Blood was covering it, and he could barely see any flesh on it. The blood had tinted the metal of a handcuff, which was attached to a chain that was wrapped poorly around the tree trunk. Judging by Private's wrist, he had probably been struggling with it for awhile.

"What happened?" Skipper whispered, now feeling a little guilty at having wanting to yell at the boy.

Private smiled sadly. "Long story." He pointed underneath him. "That guy chained me here, the accidentally fell. Don't know why. I think he's crazy."

Skipper remembered how Kowalski had said that before Private's GPS and his phone went sea, he was at the edge of the woods. If he ended up here, almost in the very middle of the woods, whoever dragged him here and decided to chain him to a tree high enough people couldn't spot him so easily, he must've been crazy.

"I think I still have a pistol on my belt. Maybe I can shoot the chain off." Skipper suggested. He had seen it in a movie once. He leaned slightly to try and see his belt.

Private's head snapped up. "Skippah! Listen!"Skipper snapped his head up, ready to ask what was happening, until he heard rustling. From behind him on the ground. He turned towards the noise, at the exact moment five cops and a woman step into view from some trees.

The woman was about in her mid thirties. Although, she looked like she just turned twenty. Her face was the kind of thing you would expect to see on a sixteen year old, by how young her facial features looked. Her hair looked recently dyed, to a platinum blonde. Her eyes were so bright that Skipper could see them in the darkness. A pale pink colour, like salmon. It was most likely contacts. Her skin was a silk peachy colour. She was wearing a short black dress, lace at the top, and a belt to match at her waist. She was also wearing heels that went up to below her knees.

Skipper scowled at the woman. He knew she couldn't see him, but he did not have a good feeling about her. _Maybe it was all the plastic surgery,_ He thought.

The woman paused at the where the dead body was on the ground. She kicked, and the bleeding face of a man popped out of the piles of leaves. She smiled. "He was an idiot anyway." She looked up, almost as if she knew exactly where Private was. "Oh, you must be little one. Aren't you a cutie."

Skipper pushed himself more behind the cover of leaves, he was sure to keep in eye sight of Private, though. The woman made him sick. She was so calm about kicking a dead body. She knew where it was too, and where Private was. Her voice purred seductively with every word she said. It was... appalling, Skipper decided.

Private looked over at his leader desperately. This woman had scared him, and the five police men didn't help either. The way she talked, the way she looked. It was almost horrific, in his opinion. Did the woman need so much plastic surgery? What was wrong with her actual face or how she used to look?

"My name's Assana. I know who you are. The innocent little Private. How's your day going?

Private hesitated. "Well... uh, it's been a bit crowded. Not much for that shooting noise either."

It took Skipper a moment, but he realized that it was the perfect thing to say. Although Private was scared, he showed that he wasn't as intimidated as Assana obviously thought he was. It showed that he was confident that the rest of the team was out smarting her. The leader smiled. I guess if Assana could play, so could they.

"Oh! Your funny too!" She put her hands on her hips. "Why don't you come down? I'm sure you've been up there a while." Private didn't say or do anything. "Or can you?" Assana paused, inspecting the area around the young boy. When she saw the chain, she tilted her head back dramatically and laughed.

"Oh geez! It looks like that crazy idiot did something right before he died! Guess we can just come up there to get ya, huh?" She gestured up, and two of the police men walked to the tree trunk, ready to climb. "It's okay. I bet that chain is hurting you anyway. We'll fix you right up."

Private inhaled deeply, and glanced towards his leader once again for support. Only to see, that Skipper wasn't there. He exhaled, not sure what to think. He looked back down at Assana. He saw the two men, already half way up the trunk to him. His left hand gripped the branch he was on fearfully. He had no feeling in his right hand anymore.

The two man were about to reach Private when the first shot rang out.

Instinctively, Private ducked with his hand over his head. When his head went down, he was just able to see one of the men drop to the ground, blood had covered his brown hair. Surprised, Private lifted his head back up, just in time to hear the next shot ring, and without looking, he knew the second man with the light red hair had fallen. His notions were confirmed when he heard the dull thud.

Assana turned to the right, where the shots were coming from. Not one to distinguish fear, she grinned at the man with the pistol. "Oh, Skipper. Looks like you've got me trapped. What with that gun in your hand." She calmly started to reach into the deep pocket of her dress. "And how I had recalled all my patrol troops except for these five. Well three, now. I guess."

Quickly, her arm shot out of her pocket, holding a hot pink painted handgun, pointed above her head, slightly at an angle. "You killed two of my men, Skipper. Can I kill one of yours now?"

Skipper glared. His finger itched to pull the trigger, to just get rid of this horrible woman who he instantly hated. He couldn't though. The three men had there own handguns. Two were now pointed at Skipper, the last one was also pointing at Private. He was trapped.

"Don't hurt him." Skipper pleaded, but it more sounded like a statement.

Assana's grin broadened. She had him. "Put down the gun. I'll take you both in."

"To who?"

She scoffed. "Like I'd tell you that. The less you know the better. Or are you pigheaded enough not to see the lack of information you have on the situation?"

_Finally,_ Skipper thought, _some kind of intel._ _So that's why we don't know why we're being chased. Why most of the NYPD hadn't been talking openly on the situation. Why we've been left in the dark about everything. Because thats what they wanted. To take us by surprise. While we were confused, they would take us easily. _

"Put down the gun." Skipper ordered. He wanted to feel in control right now. All through the terrifying night, he _knew_ he hadn't been the one calling the shots. He desperately wanted it back.

"Honestly Skipper, I don't think you have the upper hand to call the shots here."

"Maybe. But I don't think you wanna die today. Even if it means I die too."

Private listened quietly. He wished that if he stayed quiet enough, the two guns would point away from him. He knew he was in the worst spot in the whole stand-off. Chained to a tree, with two hand guns aimed at him, no chance of getting way, or even avoiding a bullet. His life was in somebody else's hands.

"Oh, look who's figured me out in a few minutes." Assana mocked. "My job, Skipper, is to capture a solider from the penguins unit. Because I know what side I'm on, I know my course of action."

Skipper paused. Something about tat seemed odd. If all Assana had to do was to capture one penguin, what was stopping her from shooting him, and then taking Private in? She could've done that awhile ago, instead of taking the time to talk to him. Was she stalling? Something else, too. The way Assana said _'because I know what side I'm on, I know my course of action'. _Her voice wasn't purr, but a firm, normal voice. Skipper felt like his head was throbbing from the confusion. Was he just over thinking this? Yet again, she had earlier said _'or are you pigheaded enough not to see the lack of information you have on the situation?'. _Was that another hint? That Skipper didn't know of the situation. That maybe everything he was thinking was wrong. That Assana was on his side? What did that mean, anyway?

"Well, then do your 'course of action'." Skipper pushed her, not sure what was do happen.

Assana hesitated. Skipper had seemed confused to her. Was it something she had said? She had been taunting him the whole time, and suddenly he looked like he was concentrating hard on something. She glanced up to Private, who she had forgotten was there. He had suddenly looked behind her. Was it part of Skipper's confusion?

She turned.

And suddenly, the stand-off got even more intense.

"Kowalski. Rico. How wonderful of you to join our little party. Please. Participate."


	5. The real Assana

AN: I just wanted to tell everyone that the last chapter was really important. Everything said, everything that happened, every thought, will probably come later. Just giving everyone a heads up. This is a really short chapter too, sorry.

Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed. Especially Sweety Kneul! Hope you like this chapter!

* * *

The more they waited, the more the tension built.

Assana now had whipped out another pink painted pistol, and was pointed it at Rico, and now Skipper. Kowalski had a handgun aimed at one of the three men Assana had with her. Rico had a baseball bat in his hands, and a shotgun pointed at another one of three men. The two men who were being aimed by Kowalski and Rico, were aiming for them as well. The third trooper still had his pistol locked on to Private in the tree. And Skipper's gun hadn't moved an inch away from his aim to Assana's head. No one was moving.

"What to do now?" Assana asked. She was scanning the four Penguins. They were all bloody, the three older ones had passed the end of their strength, and running on only adrenaline. She noticed that Rico could hardly hold both the bat and the gun up, and had to switch his effort on his arms a few times. Kowalski's right arm was looking horrible, and his blood was looking more black now. Skipper was shaking from his pain. Private was stuck. No gun, and no way to assist or get assistance.

"Because I still have the upper hand. Most of your team is about to collapse. The other is helpless." She smirked. "I'll give you a moment to appreciate that your beat, Skipper."

Skipper glared. He hated losing. He will never accept that he lost. Never. He sized up the situation. Who was an expendable variable? Not anyone from his team. Who from there's? Everyone, in his opinion. But no targets without being shot at himself. What could he do? He was still concentrating on his confusion earlier, he couldn't think straight. Was she a double agent or something? Or was she just toying with him?

"That's long enough. Now, Greg will shoot Kowalski, Ryland will shoot Rico, and I'll take Skippy out. Then what to do with the little Private?" She received a glare from each one of them. Except for Private, who's face was pale from the fear of the whole situation and tension.

"Well, he's such a wittle cutie pie. He can come with me." She paused to return Skipper's glare. "He can be my pet." She looked up at Private, and gave a genuine smile. Normally, he would be the type of person who would trust a smile like that. But he could see the darkness in her eyes. "Would you like that, Private? I guess we'd have to take that chain off, though. Or keep it. Keeping it on would make things much easier for me."

Kowalski was no tipped over the edge at that. His gun was locked on instantly to Assana, without him even realizing. It was as if his handgun knew what his brain wanted to do. He was furious. _No one_ talked about Private like that. No one hinted that kind of _stuff_ to Private. This woman, he decided, was disgusting. She need to die. He was sure of it.

Skipper saw that Kowalski aim had moved. He knew that if he was where Kowalski was, he would have done the same thing. Rico was turning green, and Skipper guessed that he was probably close to fainting from blood loss. And if Rico went down, that would mean only three of them. Skipper was near to dropping too, which would make it even more difficult. It would mean there would be only two of them left. And one of them were chained to a tree. The time to act was now.

_BAM!_

The man who had his gun pointed at Rico dropped. It took a second for Skipper to realize that the one who had shot was him. He could smell the scent of gunpowder close to him, and felt his finger still squeezing the trigger. He didn't even know he did that. He didn't show any insecurity. Nothing. His arm didn't move, neither did his eyes. He was frozen, with no emotion of what just happened.

Assana looked just as unfazed. "Didn't like that or something, Skippy? "Oh, that's sweet. You do have feelings."

_Bam!_

The man aimed at Kowalski fell. Skipper was sure he hadn't of pulled the trigger that time. He looked at Kowalski and Rico for an answer. Kowalski's gaze and gun was still focused on Assana. Rico's shotgun had the faintest bit of smoke coming from out of the barrel. Skipper smiled. _There are two of them, four of us now._

Assana still smirked like nothing had happened. "Well, I guess we've over stayed our welcome, Timothy. May as well just leave. I'll be able to taunt them later." She lowered bath of her hot pink guns calmly, and placed them back in her dress pockets. She didn't even hesitate, it was a quick movement. She confidently stepped one foot in from of the other, and started to walk towards Skipper.

Her head lifted towards the tree. "Can't wait until you wear that chain again, sugar cube!" She chuckled under her breath, and still kept her pace towards Skipper. He had his pistol pointed at her, knowing she would probably try something. The seconds gained more suspense, until, she was finally standing beside Skipper. She paused, leaned, and said quietly, "I also can't wait to play with your heart, Skipper."

Timothy ran after her. And she was already gone into the rest of the woods.

* * *

"Are you okay, sweet pea?"

Private smiled shyly. It was a joke between him and his leader. It was what his grandmother used to call him, and somehow Skipper got hold of the nickname. It tuned into a codeword, actually. If Skipper ever referred to him as sweet pea, it meant that he was as worried as he ever was. It also turned into something that calmed the little one down at times.

"I'm fine. How are you guys? You look awful."

Rico laughed dryly. That was the understatement of the week. They all looked horrible. And probably needed medical attention immediately. Skipper had three gunshots in his shoulders, and was exhausted from crashing the ambulance, and jumping trees to find Private. He was a mess. His back was bleeding from glass, and every bone in his body ached from the fall he took. Kowalski and Private had the least amount of harm. Kowalski's right arm had taken four bullets, most of them just barely got into his skin. Except for his bleeding, he'd be okay. Private had a few scraps on his knees, he probably feel from running, but his right wrist looked horrible. There was a two inch thick line of dark blood and torn flesh and tissue from where the handcuff was placed.

Kowalski smiled sadly, and ruffled Private's hair, accidentally rubbing blood within his golden locks. "We're all fine. I'll be able to fix us all up when we get somewhere safe."

"Which would be where, Kowalski?" Skipper asked. They were walking around blindly. Skipper was scared that they would run into Assana again. And that she would bring more troops. _And maybe learn to act instead of taunt,_ he thought. It also seemed that he wouldn't be able to see if Neon Tyler was alive, either.

Kowalski thought for a moment. "Well... considering we're most likely running from the American government on this one, I think somewhere out the country. Perhaps where one of Skipper's alias' is very wealthy or have access to plenty of medical care."

Skipper thought for a moment. "Kowalski, when's Christmas?"

"What? It's summer."

"Oh well. Sorry, Rico. Looks like we're going to Mexico early."

* * *

Timothy eyed Assana. Usually she wasn't the one to take defeat well. Or even have a defeat. "You realize Billy Blowhole is gonna kill you, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just call him Billy, geez. And, no, he won't. I have a plan."

"Which is?"

Assana grinned, she stopped walking. Tim passed her, cautiously taking the lead in front of her. He knew well enough not to question her actions. When he passed, she smirked. She had stopped at the most perfect fallen tree branch in the whole forest. She reached down to pick it up, and was satisfied at how heavy it was. _Perfect..._

Her elbows locked as she lifted the branch in the air. The beetles and ants that had claimed it as there home had retreated. Either by falling off, or running down Assana's arms and to the ground. She felt the little, tingly sensation of their legs on her bare skin, but she was preoccupied on her plan.

Tim was walking slower. He kept his eyes in front, and didn't dare turn around. Who knows what Assana was doing back there, or why she didn't answer. He sure didn't want her to snap at him. That was a nightmare. He stayed at a slow pace so she could catch up later, though. He could hear her footsteps coming up from behind him, anyway. If Assana didn't want to talk about her plan, he knew well not to push her.

_Thunk!_

Tim was sent spiralling into the nearest tree to his left. His head was suddenly dizzy, and in pain, and his vision was blurred mostly. As he fell down leaning next to the tree, his fingers grasped at anything, to stop his world from spinning. His knees were buckling, and in seconds he was against the tree, groaning at the sudden pain.

Assana dropped the tree branch that was driping with blood, and grinned. She suspected it was heavy, but not that heavy. She reached into her dress pocket, and pulled out her favourite dagger. The case of it was painted hot pink, just like her guns.

"My plan, Timothy. Is to take in this traitor who let those idiots escape. And to 'accidentally' cut out his tongue so he can't. Tell. Billy. Anything."


	6. Calm

AN: I love writing! This is so fun to write! Also, this chapter and next chapter is just going to be really simple, and calm.

Special thanks to Sweet Kneul who's like my sister on this site now :3

* * *

Billy's eyes stayed locked on the door. This was the room he would always go to when he needed to talk to someone. It was originally designed to be a garage, but after a few renovations, it changed into an empty room. The walls were painted grey, and the concrete on the floor was just as dark. The whole room was sound proof, so it made it perfect for questioning. There were no items in the room, nothing. There were no windows either, and the only light source was the three ceiling lights hanging down.

It had been a month since the incident with the Penguin unit, and Billy's impatience had taken that time to raise. Assana had come to empty handed. Well, mostly. She had cooked up an excuse of how Timothy- the supposed traitor- had turned against them, shooting four of her personal troops, and knocking her out so the Penguins could escape. He didn't believe the story one bit, but he did appreciate that he had cut out the 'traitor's' tongue to support her story.

Hans was the first to appear in the room. He looked slightly nervous, but tried not to show it. He was dressed to empress, wearing a black dress shirt, jeans to match, and his bronze hair jelled back. He walked slowing to the middle of the room, where his leader was.

"Is... Assana not here yet, Blowhole?" He asked, shaking. It annoyed Billy, the rivalry Hans and Assana had. How they would purposely try to sabotage each other to get in his good books. Hans' accent also irritated him, but he had learned to ignore it.

"Of course I'm here!" A loud, purring voice announced. Assana had burst into the room, because she always had to make an entrance. She was wearing her normal sort of outfit, a tight black dress, and high heel boots. Her hair was curled, and was now dyed a vibrant aqua blue colour, her skin was paler than usual, and her nails were painted a blinding blood red. Knowing Assana, she had probably used real blood to get that colour, Billy grinned at the thought as she made her way over.

"Now, why was I called here? I was planning on interrogating some people today."

Billy frowned more harshly now. "Why are you here? Because _you_ let those Penguins escape, and I'm done waiting for this idiot to catch them." He gestured towards Hans.

"I _have_ been trying-"

"Shut up. Assana, I want you to work with Hans from now on. I know you'll be able to catch them. Hans will serve as your assistant."

Assana grinned. She officially had the upper hand on her rival. Hans answered her look with a glare. It didn't make sense to him. _She _had gotten the enemy to escape, why did Blowhole put her in charge? She was incompetent to him. He had been trying to track them down, but they _were _one of the bed military unit. Did Billy expect them to be found in a day? A week?

"Yay. Does that mean I get to play with Hans-y?" Assana asked, leaning over so she was leaning on Hans' shoulder, and put her hand on his chest.

Blowhole rolled his eyes. If she wasn't such a good assassin, he would have fired her a long time ago. "No. I just want those Penguins found. By any means necessary. Found, killed, brought here, I don't care. I've given up a lot to fund this plan, I don't want it to be ruined because my staff or morons."

Assana pulled away from Hans. "Killed? Can't I play with the birdies a little?"

Billy groaned in annoyance. "Whatever. I just want them." He gave a look at both of them. "Even if it's only one body part. I just want them. Dead or alive."

* * *

"This is Chuck Charles, on the scene of a chase that went through the streets of NewYork."

Skipper glared. This was probably the hundredth time he had watched this newscast he had recorded. Chuck was standing on one side of the camera, and on the other side and in the background, was the remains of the greenhouse. The camera was positioned in to the spot where the ambulance had broken through, and you could just see the broken skylight at the top. He also hadn't noticed how bland the place looked.

"The supposed terrorists had been in an intense chase through the city, and into the outlining woods. In the process, the four had destroyed a cop car, this greenhouse, an ambulance, and several members of the NYPD had been killed."

The leader's eyes had started to twitch.

"Do you know what the current situation on the terrorists are, Chuck?"

"Yes. The police assume that they have fled the country. So, the American government has asked several others countries to join them in finding them. Turning this into an international manhunt on the case."

"How many people are we manhunting?"

"We had just received information that the assumed number is three to four but-"

The screen suddenly went black. Skipper glared at the blank screen. "Heeey!"

Kowalski shook his head sadly, making a 'tsk tsk' noise. "You really have to stop watching that Skipper, it's making you stressed."

"Is not." Skipper growled stubbornly, crossing his arms and standing up. He saw his lieutenant's disapproving face. He sighed. "What do you want?"

"We're all bored out of our minds. Especially Rico. You should take him out to get a movie or something."

Skipper raised his eyebrow in surprise. It wasn't like they weren't bored yesterday, either. Kowalski returned the look, telling Skipper the reason. His leader nodded in understanding. It was time for Private's bandage to come off, which was the moment of truth for them. If his wrist had healed enough to take off some stitches, they wouldn't have to amputate the little guy's hand. His wrist was so bad, Kowalski had to stitch Private's torn tissue together, so that flesh could regrow. Skipper knew that that must have been painful.

"Okay. We'll be back in a bit. Come on, Rico!"

* * *

"Kowalski! It's about to go into the bathroom! Use the pillow!"

"Okay, I got it. Wait, Private... STOP CURLING YOUR WRIST!"

Private quickly hid his right arm behind his back. The stitches was itching. He had gotten how many? It was enough to go around his entire wrist. It felt unfair, that the rest of the team's injuries had healed, but he was the one who had almost gotten his hand taken off. "Sorry." He apologized.

"It's fine." The scientist gave him a reassuring smile. "Can you still see the mouse?"

Private couldn't help but smile. He was scared of a lot of things, but it was nice to know that one of the only things he wasn't scared of, one of the men he admired was terrified of. Kowalski was standing on top of one of beds in their hotel room, scanning the room fearfully for a mouse.

Private started to walk around the room. One mattress was up against the door, making sure the rodent didn't escape. The windows were shut, and the air vents were blocked by cardboard boxes on top of them. All the furniture was pushed to the walls, and a poorly thrown pillow was laying against the doorframe of the small bathroom.

He stopped, putting his hands on his hips. "Where did it go?"

"Fiiiind iiiit." Kowalski whined.

Private giggled. "It's funny because I'm the one who's supposed to be afraid of mice."

Kowalski heard a small noise to his left and he bounced to the other side of the bed. He took a few breaths. Was it him, or was he close to hyperventilating?

"I'm more scared that Skipper is going to walk in here and see this." The scientist finally admitted.


	7. Rihanna, Katie, Sarah, and Assana's team

AN: I have returned! School is really hard to keep up with okay? It makes you work hard, then be really lazy afterwards. Also, the OC's in this chapter, Rihanna, Katie, and Sarah, aren't meant to be really big OC's. They're just kinda there to make this more action packed.

Also, I have to say thanks to BatmanSkipper for reviewing every chapter! Really appreciate it. And too

* * *

Rihanna calmly walked out of the connivence store, which was currently very damp from the gasoline that had been poured in every corner. She couldn't believe it was that easy to get the store ready for burning. Earlier, she had walked in as calmly as she is now, quickly shoot the young man at the front desk, and do her job. It was late at night, and the small town was quiet this time of night, it was no surprise to her that the store was nearly empty.

Her vibrant red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, since she expected a fight soon to be happen. In addition, she couldn't wear her normal short jean shorts and sports bra she was so used to wearing. Rihanna guessed that she was much like her current boss, Assana, in the way that she liked exploiting her sex appeal. She supposed that if she was fighting a man, and if that man perhaps, accidentally saw something private; it would be all that more easy to kill him while he was distracted. Instead, she was wearing black yoga shorts, which tightened her ass in a way she preferred over the jean shorts, and a tight-very tight- silver half shirt. It wasn't much of a change, but it still had her in a bad mood because of it.

She put her walkie talkie she had been holding, along with her pistol, up to her ear. She also preferred her cell. "Hey, Katie, everythin' set up?"

There was a loud, unhearable giggle on the other end. After a moment, Rihanna gave up, frustrated. "Fine. Whatever. I'll just say you are."

She said, smacking her walkie talkie against her side. Did they really _have_ to make a complicated trap for their target? If she was in charge; no trap, no allies, no fighting for hours. She's just go in, and kill the bastards.

"Be much simpler." She mumbled, starting to walk to the rendezvous.

* * *

Katie growled under her breath. How dare Rihanna, of all people, hang up on her?! In her annoyance, she flung the talkie on the dirt road. She was in charge of the final phase of the plan, or how they were going to capture the members of the penguin unit.

Her outfit she chose looked like she was ready for working out. Light blue sports bra, and long, but tight, yoga pants. Her hair was already a short dirty blonde, so she didn't really need to put it up. Her usual outfit was very different, besides the sports bra. She usually wore dark, long trousers, and matching overcoat. She had her belly showing. Not like she had much to hide.

She dropped down from the tree that she was in, and landed almost like a cat on the ground. She scanned the bottom. Nothing out of the ordinary, except her thrown walkie talkie. Katie was still too angry to acknowledge that, though. She scanned the top of the trees. Nothing to give away what was going to happen.

She tried to remember the map that Assana had given her, of where the darts were to be placed. She recalled it easily, because of her photographic memory. After remembering, she walked backwards with her eyes still closed, to the beginning of the road. She opened her eyes, and studied every noticeable part of the road. She knew where the poisonous darts were hidden, and she compared it to the map she recalled.

Katie grinned. Yes. Everything was in place. This would be the most fun plan that Assana had ever planned. She turned, giggling a bit, and heading to the meeting place, not bothering to pick up her walkie talkie.

* * *

Sarah, was as pissed off as any woman could be. First, she had fallen off the bed. Then she had to change into a horribly provocative head to toe leather outfit, because Assana couldn't be a boss to non sexy woman; her words. Assana had also commented that Sarah should die her hair from raven black, to blonde or green. Now, she had gotten the hardest phase of the plan. But she was the math and science nerd, so _she_ had to be the one to set up this part.

And what did that consist of? Sarah scowled when she listed it off. Land mines, which had to be set up and buried individually. Assana had four men help her with digging. Not that any of them stayed to set up the mines, though. That angered more. The carbon monoxide bomb, that was just a pain too set up. She had to calculate where it was to go, like she had done with the mines, which wore her out even more. She had too place everything in a field, too. It was a few acres, and that meant even more work of calculating where every single bomb, and mine should go. Precisely.

At that moment, she decided that she hated everyone in the world.

She picked up her walkie talkie on the ground. After shaking off some dirt, she held the talkie to her ear. "S'na." She mumbled. "'tin's 'n 'ace." (Asana, everything's in place.)

After a static silence, she heard Rihanna's voice. "Learn to talk, Sarah! We're already at the meeting spot! Get yo ass over here!"

Sarah growled. She hated Rihanna. Mostly, because Rihanna was a jerk to everyone else. She hated Katie, too. She was an idiot, and giggled way too much and for no reason for Sarah to ignore. Assana had some issues too.

Who was she kidding? Sarah stomped her foot violently on the ground to release some of her rage. She hated everyone.

* * *

"Private!" Skipper said angrily, taking Private's wrist in his hand and placing it on the ground in a firm grip, "We said that you have to stop curling your wrist!"

Private looked sheepishly at his arm that was being held down by Skipper's hand. It had been close to three weeks since the news that his hand didn't need amputating. Nearly two months they had been in hiding, their only home was motel rooms. He missed the home they had in NewYork. What would some of their friends, like Marlene or Phil and Mason, be thinking? They left so abruptly. Marlene was the last one with Kowalski before they left, she probably thought something bad had happened to them. His heart ached a little when he thought of her maybe asking questions- which is never a good thing for civilians to do in a situation like this.

Private had to stop from biting his lip. "Sorry Skippah." He apologized. In all honestly, the stitches that didn't allow him to curl his wrist could have been gone a week ago. But the injury itched and stung too much for Private, especially at night. Each night, his wrist would curl and twist into every way that it could for hours. It was his own fault Skipper was pestering him and he still had his stitches on.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Rico cried, laughing, pointing at the screen with his index finger. The four were watching a movie, which is what they've been doing every night for two months. Skipper figured that they have probably watched nearly every movie in the small movie rental shop down the road. The room had no couches, just an old chair in the corner and two king size beds up against the wall, which wasn't nearly as close to the small TV as they wanted. So, they sat on the floor. Or rater, a dirty grey carpet that Kowalski complained about enough to annoy Skipper each day.

Skipper decided that they should leave soon.

Kowalski stared at the screen in confusion. "Oh yes. It is very humorous because..." His voice trailed off trying to place what he was about to say about the movie they were watching.

The leader rolled his eyes. "Oh for pete's sake, Kowalski. It is _humorous_ because the Hulk randomly punched Thor in the wall!" After his explanation, he began to laugh sarcastically, making fun of the scientist.

Kowalski didn't seem to mind the ridicule, his eyes stayed fixated on the movie. "Are you sure it isn't because Hulk is a reference to Rico, being a mindless destruction machine and blowing off an adrenaline rush on Thor so he can fight more efficiently? If so, I find it odd that someone would classify that as humorous."

Skipper removed his hand from Private's wrist to rub his temple. "Kowalski? No. Just, no."

Rico laughed again, rolling onto his stomach. Kowalski's face expression changed yet again to confusion. "Why is it humorous that Hulk is thrashing around Loki-"

Immediately, Skipper was debating wether or not to slap Kowalski into next week. Before he could start his threat, a woman's voice behind the room's door had started it for him. "You better not ask something like that again, Kowalski. I think you're making boss man mad."

Everyone was up instantly. Rico had gone into action, coughing up weapons that scientifically wouldn't be able to come out of his stomach, or his throat. He spewed up eight pistols in a matter of seconds. After those objects, he spewed up first a bow, then a set of arrows. While Private was grabbing for his bow and arrows, the others had already gotten two pistols each. Ten seconds was all it took for the four to be up and ready.

The woman behind the door laughed. She probably heard the scramble. "Oh, stop. I just wanna talk, really. Now open the door."

"Fine." Skipper answered. He whispered behind his shoulder at his team, "be ready." The man started to walk towards the was a short walk, but the team almost silently wished that the five step walk wold take forever. To give them time to calm themselves.

Skipper sized up his team. Surely, they could handle anything thrown at them. Rico, he wasn't that good at aiming, but he had speed that could turn any pistol into a machine gun from bullet amount, and he was very strong. Not as strong as their leader, but strong enough to take down most people in hand to hand combat. That was his specialty; it would have been better if Rico could fight hand to hand rather than a shoot out. Kowalski was the complete opposite. He was the worst member of the team in hand o hand combat, even worse then their youngest member. He was perfect with a gun, though. He was precise with taking down a target with only one or two bullets, and didn't randomly aim and shoot, like Rico. Then, there was Private. It was an unspoken secret of the group that the only reason Private made it on the team was because he was the best sharp shooter that they had ever seen. He excelled with a sniper, but he usually preferred to use a bow and arrows in combat because he felt aiming a gun wastes too much time, rather than arrows, which he has been shooting for years that it is more like second nature now.

Skipper always felt better when facing an enemy when he reminded himself of what his teammates could do. He slowly twisted the doorknob, then swung the door open, immediately lifting up both pistols in his hands to whoever would appear in the doorway.

Skipper groaned and put one of his guns at his side, keeping the other aimed. "Oh not you again!"

Assana grinned. Her hair hand changed yet again as a silver grey, that was styled professionally into a bun, with a few braids mixed in her hair. She wasn't wearing a dress this time, but instead tight black pants, and a navy blue T-shirt. Both of which hugged every curve she had very nicely; and even Kowalski had to admit that she did have a good body. Her skin was a peachy colour, and her make-up looked a little more natural then when they first met. The only thing that was overly flashy about her this time was her pumped heels.

She gave Skipper a meaningful look. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"I think we were expecting anyone else then you."

Assana looked over Skipper to who answered. "Well, I'm here Kowalski. And I've come to warn you."

Skipper raised his eyebrows. "Warn us? Think of your next words carefully."

She didn't seem fazed by the leader's intimidating demeanour. She began to walk into the room. The team were surprised at her calmness, and were too shocked to stop her. They stared as she walked to the first bed, and made a face as she sat down slowly. "Ew. I can't believe you spent more than five minutes in here."

"The... the warning?"

"Oh, yes." Assana seemed to finally remember. She gave each of them a look in turn. "You're all going to die."

"What?" Kowalski asked, dropping his pistols a little from his aim.

She smiled. "We set up a trap for you. One you can't possibly get out of. Trust me, we've been planning it forever. I'm here to give you a choice."

Skipper was getting angry now. "I'm supposed to believe that you came here, unarmed and unguarded, to tell us that you were going to kill us in a trap?"

"And to give you a choice."

He rolled his eyes again. "Right. So tell us your choice. Because since it's you, it'll obviously be ingenious." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Assana's grin broadened. "My deal, is that instead of all of you dying in my clever trap, you can hand over two of you to be 'interrogated' by my boss. For your crimes, of coarse."

Skipper was a little disappointed at her answer. He was angry, too, that she expected that he would give up one of his men- because he wouldn't let two of them go, he would have to be one to go. First, that was not going to happen. They did things as a team. He was disappointed because Assana seemed bent on keeping the lie that they were being hunted down because they had committed 'crimes' that they needed to be locked up. Skipper _knew_ that that was just what they told others to cover up they wanted them captured.

The leader gave her a look. "Uh huh. You honestly expect us to do that?"

Private and Rico had been silent the whole time. Private held his aim, with the bow's string pulled back to his chin. He felt better that Skipper was taking charge, like he does. It was good to know that Skipper always tried to protect them. Rico's eyes had fallen from his aim on Assana, back on the TV that had the movie they didn't put on pause. He was more fixated on the scene of Ironman flying a nuke into a portal. Seemed more interesting, in his mind.

Assana stood up. It was time for her to go. She started to walk towards the door. "No, I don't Skipper. That's the point." Without giving the leader time to respond, she left the room, just as calm as she was coming in.

Skipper thought for a moment. Their boredom was over. They were finally gonna get a long night full of action again. He missed it.

* * *

Next chapter is gonna be fun to write ^_^

The movie I referenced is The Avengers. I just watched it again after a month or something after I saw it in the theatre. It's weird, I remembered it being much more awesome in the cinema.

Also, in case anyone wondered where the 'Private is a sharp shooter' came from, watch 'Stop bugging me'. In the end, Private shot that dart thing so expertly, and he only aimed for like three seconds? And then in the beginning of 'A visit from uncle Nigel' when the penguins went to get confirmation from Phil and Mason, Private was seen with a bow and an arrow, while the others were seen with something else. Just something I've noticed.


	8. fight pt 1

AN: One, two, three... FIGHT SCENE!

I've waited for this... I've prepared for this... now, it is time.

P.s. Simple is not in my vocabulary. Also, sorry if this took a long time. First I had writer's block, then my computer froze, and then half of the chapter didn't save, which depressed me so I didn't write for a bit. But here it is! Gonna try a first person's POV!

* * *

Skipper's POV:

I think I'd rather be scared than bored. I've been bored for nearly two months while we were in hiding, and I hated it. When you're scared, you know you're alive. Your head goes dizzy and suddenly the past, present, or future don't matter. There is only survival. Your heart starts pounding faster, and you can feel the intensely every time it pumps blood through your veins. It's exhilerating. Bordeum is the complete opposite. Time passes faster, and you missout moments in your life. Maybe I'm used to feeling scared. To feeling adrenaline. If danger's a drug, then I'm hooked.

I admit, I was even a little bit glad that Assana had come back into our lives. It meant more action, more adrenaline, and less living without really living. And besides, I think I'd go insane if I had to explain humor in movies to Kowalski again. I felt... well I'm not sure. I hesitated for a moment when Assana left calmly. Quite honestly, I don't know exactly how to react when a woman who I haven't seen for months tells me that I'm going to die. After my slight hesitation, we bolted out of the room, and began running down the hallway leading outside. We knew we would find Assana. We didn't know what else though. I wonder if our hesitation might have cost us our lives.

Rico was behind me. And he was far from graceful. Even though my blood was starting to pound in my ears, I could still hear his feet slam on the concrete floor of the motel. I briefly thought that how you walk could tell things about someones personality. Rico was... well, he was a neutral looker. Is that a thing? I don't know. Rico isn't good looking, but he isn't bad looking either. His face had it's scar near his mouth, which could make him look pretty badass, but then the rest of his skin was blotchy and had tiny little scars pelted in, too. His hair wasn't bad. It was black, like mine, and usually always had a weird cowlick that could never come down. He was really muscular. Maybe even more than me. I one time had an arm wrestling match with him. Well... long story short I'm very competitive, and don't like to lose. Rico couldn't go on missions for a week while his injuries healed. I've known Rico most of my life. Even so, I wouldn't call him my best friend. We agreed on most things, but what most people don't know is that we fought a lot. So, no, not best friends. Definitely not. More like brothers.

...Maybe half brothers.

Private was on my left. He kind of looked like a grasshopper, all fragile and small and thin. Almost as if he would be blown over by a small breeze. People who thought that didn't know him at all. Well, okay, even I forget sometimes. He's just really small and muscular. Despite what most people think, Private has been hunting and learning survival for years. His talent with a bow proves that. When we first met him, although I hate to discuss it, he beat all of us in shooting arrows in probably less than ten seconds. To be honest, but if anybody mentions it, I'll deny it, he actually beat me with his back turned from the target. He was that good. If he wasn't in this team, I'm sure he'd be an archery champion. He was also absolutely gorgeous. He was that good looking that I don't even feel awkward saying it anymore. He has a certain class that none of us can master. I think he knows. There was something self conscious about him whenever he stepped like a swan, the way his feet just need to brush the ground to propel himself forward. Or how even when he was drenched with sweat and has been hiking for hours, your clothes and body was always more gross than his. Or how he was the only person I knew that could wear white while digging in mud, without a single spot getting on him. Or how dirt could not stick to him, no matter how hard it tried. So, yeah, I think he knew; and he loved it. I can tell.

His real name is Felix Young. Just saying.

Kowalski was on my right. Geez, he was like a ghost. At least I could hear Private's footsteps. If I couldn't hear his breathing, or see him, I would think he wasn't here. I think Kowalski was the fencer of the team. In any argument, he was always on both sides. Couldn't decide who was right. I think he was more sure about facts than opinions. Which is strange because no one cares. I hardly passed school. So I don't know, or care, which elements combine to make whatever. Or how to write the equation. I gave up on equations after letters began to become involved. My first impression of Kowalski, was that I had to beat him up. Well, I did, but I had no idea at the time that he was gonna be part of my team. What an first introduction I made. I still don't think he forgave me for it. He could be good looking- if he tried. Not actor or model looking like Private, but enough. His hair was a shade of darkest brown, which I just learned this year. It usually looked pretty matted. But sometimes he would sleek it back with a bit too much gel. He wore contacts sometimes, but when he was casual, he was wearing his glasses. He was such a nerd too! There is one day in the year, that he would watch every Star Wars movie, in a row. For like fourteen hours, he'll just sit in front of the TV, dressed in black as some character with a toy lightsaber by his side. Sometimes, in one movie he would quote every line. Not messing up once.

We were really good friends, believe it or not.

Finally, after my distractions, we were out the door. I expected some kind of army. Like maybe Assana had twenty people with shotguns aimed at us as soon as we stepped out. Instead, we saw three girls beside her in the small parking lot.. And they were dressed fairly attractive like. Winky face. The red haired one was glaring at the dirty blonde one, who was pointing at us and giggling hysterically. The blacked haired was giving us all death looks. The red head was armed head to toe with weapons. Two pistols in hand, a belt of grenades around he chest, and a dagger tied around her thigh. The blonde had a belt around her waist that had several different looking knives. It took me a second to realize that she was a knife thrower. Sometimes you can just tell. The black haired one had a shotgun I didn't recognize. I assumed that she was good at aiming i she only had one gun.

"Like my team, Skippy?" Assana asked. Her voice is so annoying. Does everything she say have to sound so... well, try to sound provocative? I can't even try to describe it.

I crossed my arms. "Yeah. Where'd you find them? A trash heap?" I answered.

It took a second after I said that for the blonde one to get pissed. Her eyes narrowed. You could probably have seen her body tense up in anger. She, as quick as ever, reached down to her belt, found a knife, and flung her arm over her head. She did those actions so fast I didn't fully process it until her arm was up. The blade caught on small amount of light from the moon, which directed the stream in my line of vision. That was the last I saw before I heard a tiny whizzing sound, and had realized she had thrown the knife.

And it was aimed for me.

I was helpless. It happened so fast. My arms were still crossed around my chest. I still had my two pistols in my hand, but what good would that do? Besides, I knew for a fact that I wouldn't be able to shoot before that knife hit me. I couldn't even move before that knife hit me. Well, I probably could shoot it or something if I had been expecting it. But I hadn't. I have slow reaction time. Well, may as well look cool and fearless while it happened. My arms stayed crossed, like I could do anything else, and I glared at the knife. As if it was going to drop just by my stare.

Then, something else that I couldn't really process happened. An arrow flew past my left ear. As soon as I heard it, I could just tell that it was expertly aimed in a matter of seconds. It was just a feeling. And it was right. The arrow was angled, and it didn't hit the tip of the knife's blade, instead it hit the beginning of the little handle of the knife. The knife was ricocheted down to the ground. But the arrow, however, had hit the knife in just the perfect place and angle. The arrow kept flying, now only slightly turned. And it was heading straight at Assana.

I knew who had shot the arrow. Kowalski had gasped slightly behind me when the arrow had dropped the knife and was now aimed for someone else, in those five seconds it took. Which just confirmed my theory that all of our admirations of Private had just grown ten times bigger.

And then, everything went to hell. Assana had amazing reaction time. Her hot pink painted handgun was out instantly, and she dove to the ground before the arrow got halfway towards her. While she was laying there, her gun barrel lifted and was pointed at me. My own guns had lifted and the two of us were sizing each other up, wondering what the best move was. The dirty blonde one had gotten another knife from her belt. After a quick glance, I knew that she was now aiming for Private, not me. After three years fighting alongside my team, I could tell exactly what Private was doing. His arm would be up, the bow string pulled back to his chin, with an arrow ready to be shot. His other arm would be completely straight, ready for the arrow to fly. Arrows versus knives. I had a feeling that was the battle I would be missing while I fought with Assana. Kowalski had ran a little ways, I think to the end of the parking lot. The black haired one had raced after him, all in a matter of seconds. I decided that I should expect shots coming from over there. Rico and the red head were really the only ones fighting at the moment. The girl had toppled onto him the moment Assana had dropped to the ground. She had dropped her two pistols she was holding, and they were lying in the middle between me and Assana. It didn't look like the red head needed them. Rico was struggling under her. When I saw that I had a wave of fear. The girl was reaching over to her thigh to the dagger that was tied around it. She was going to stab Rico.

This had all happened in maybe thirty seconds. It must have been planned. The team's actions were just too organized. Too offensive. Too played out. Something was wrong. I just knew it. If we stayed here, I'm sure we'd be dead or seriously injured in about five or ten minutes. Something was also wrong with the way Assana was acting.

We had to get out of here.

I dropped my guns slowly. Private was still on my left. I saw his muscles in his arm were shifting and tensing that he was about to shoot. He saw my eye. His body didn't even twitch, but I knew he was hesitant as well.

When I was younger, my father and I worked on our family farm everyday. It was a dairy farm, but we did have a chicken coop, and we kept the cows a few acres away from the house because the smell was so bad. So in between our house and the cows, we had like a mini forest. It really wasn't much, just maybe four acres, but it was enough to have little critters in there. Looking back, it wasn't that good of an idea, because wild animals would get under the fences, and skunks were always digging under the chicken coop and killing the chicks and stinking up the place. One time a wondering wolf killed a calf. I found the corpse just outside the fence. It was no wonder the farm didn't stay in business that long. I blame my grandfather, who my father inherited the place from.

Anyway, sometimes on a break I would go into that mini forest to explore. There wasn't really anything dangerous except a few foxes which my dad shot if they were ever a problem, or if there were just a lot. I remember this one time I went out there, and a small group of foxes, maybe three or four, were planning. By the looks of them they hadn't eaten in a few days, so they were probably desperate for food. There was actually a herd like thing of rabbits in a small clearing with a stream when I found them. Just one look at the foxes I could tell that they wanted all of those rabbits, and the gears in their brains were figuring out how to do it.

Eventually, one of the foxes just casually walked into the clearing. I expected all the rabbits to run immediately, but they just stayed put. The fox didn't even look at any of them, it just went straight for the stream. When it stopped for a drink, it was so close to one of things that I thought 'yup, your plan was stupid and now it's over'. But the rabbit just stayed there, like it didn't notice it. The fox stayed there for about an hour I think. Yeah, that long waiting when it could just get one or two, same with the others. The rabbits were even getting used to it. They got nearer, and the fox didn't acknowledge their existence. Eventually, the rabbits got really close, and suddenly the fox whipped its head and sunk its teeth into the closest rabbit's neck. Instantly, the other things tried to flee, but they were all too close to the first fox, because the other three or two foxes closed in instantly. They had trapped the pests in a horrible killing circle. They had killed every rabbit, with maybe one or two getting away. It was the oat bizarre, crazy thing I've ever seen foxes do. I researched them after, and they don't normally attack in herds. And I'm sure they didn't do anything like that. It was so odd.

This was what was happening. My team and I were the rabbits, these girls were the foxes. Assana had stumbled in so casually. We got closer; like by following her outside. Then, the foxes revealed their true plan. They had us in an impossible situation. No escape. We had one shot to get out, or we'd be stuck in a killing circle.

Still, Assana could have taken her shot at my right now... unless I was missing something...

"Retreat!" I yelled as loudly as I could, backing away slower. I heard a gunshot while I said it. "Retreat!" I repeated, turning my back and running down the driveway. When I turned, I saw Kowalski and the black haired girl. I think he had knocked her down, because she was on her back. Her shotgun was on the ground, but her hand was attacking the ground basically, ready to pick it up. Kowalski wasn't holding his guns. I wasn't paying attention too much to see where they were. That's one thing I've never really mentioned about Kowalski. When it comes down to it, he really is a good fighter. I think it comes naturally to him. I just don't notice or realize it that much sometimes.

The black haired girl hands were getting very close to her shotgun now. A few seconds, and Kowalski could have his head blown. Without thinking, I pushed myself further. My hearts was racing. I think I just confirmed my theories of being an adrenaline junkie. Because I loved it.

I loved the thought of one of my best friends getting his face shot.

I was next to the girl as soon as her hand touched the butt of the shotgun. Now or never. I stopped, and used my momentum of my run to turn my body slightly to the side. I kept my left foot out, and kicked with all the strength I could muster into my foot in one millisecond. Which apparently was pretty far. Rico, who I just realized had retreated as well, nearly tripped over the sliding shotgun on the asphalt.

"Retreat!" I yelled one more time.

I leapt over the girl. She was scowling at me. I have a brief memory of smirking when my feet touched the ground. Rico was one the right side of me, Kowalski the left, and Private was in the back, probably fending off flying knives and the girls aiming guns with his arrows.

I don't know why, but something just tells me we are in for a wild night.

...is it bad that I'm excited? I feel almost ashamed to say that. Should I?

* * *

AN: Oh my gosh. 3000 words...ugh.

So, remember my thoughts with Private being a sharpshooter? I just realized his whole Mr. Tux thing is a perfect example. Same with the ending to the mask of the racoon. Are the writers doing that purposely? If someone could magically ask, that would be amazing.

Also, I forget who reviewed this, but it was a person saying that he/she noticed a few things about Kowalski that I had COMPLETELY missed. And they so obvious too. So, I'm sorry person and hope I made up for it in the last bit here. By the way everyone, I've been like analyzing a lot of episodes, and I've noticed quite a few things about the penguins fighting style. Try and guess!


	9. Fight pt 2 sorta

AN: Action continues...

So, we've pretty much established that Private is a sharp shooter. What about the others? I've been taking a look at Kowalski, and I think after the episode haunted, or whatever it was, he embraced his inner fighter. He's very... well, not exactly coordinated, more like stealthy. His moves are very planned, and sometimes I think he's slower than others because of this, but he's just as good. Thoughts?

* * *

Skipper's POV:

Throughout my life, I've discovered things about myself. First, I get distracted easily. It doesn't exactly look like it, but sometimes during missions I daydream. You should see me when I have fever. I hallucinate a lot.

So, as I ran along with my team trying to find some kind of vehicle, I found myself thinking of my years on the dairy farm with my parents. My dads in a wheelchair now, after I fall on a ladder that paralyzed him, and my mom lived with him a nursing home. I never visit that often. That isn't really fair. My dad and I had a good relationship growing up. I used to spend all the time working on the farm because I thought that was my only career in the future. My favourite memories of the farm are silly little things. Me sneaking out at night so I could eat a little of the fresh cream down in the basement. Or whenever it was a school day, I would walk the two miles to the school, collecting my lunch of berries along the way. Sometimes the bus would come. When it did, I drove the jeep down the driveway. I was an okay driver, but I grew even better over time.

Which was probably why I was in the front seat of this dump truck we found. The top of the tin was off, but it would be okay since none of us would be riding in there. I quickly buckled my seat belt in. Rico was right beside me, with Kowalski and Private in the back. I had a quick study of them. Rico looked calm, but who knew when that would end. Kowalski was looking a bit scared. Okay, he looked more nervous actually. Private looked anxious. Which I've learned is actually what anxiety is. I know, weird that I just learned that. It's just that I've always associated anxiety with being nervous. Anxious to me is being eager. Little did I know that there is a big difference between anxious and nervous.

I put the gear in drive. We started to move forward slowly.

The only real reason we needed to find a car, was because Assana and her team of misfits had gotten in one when we had started running. We got into the closest one we could find. After Rico hot wired it of course. Also, we didn't feel safe enough to take ours.

My foot was pushing as hard as it could on the speed. We had to get as far as possible.

Or... maybe we didn't need to.

I eased my foot off the pedal. My arms swerved to the the steering wheel to the right side. The wheels turned to my will, but it was a painful turn around. I was basically smacked into Rico, who was knocked into his window. Although, that was probably my fault for not giving any warning. The world spun for a short moment. I could just see out of the windshield. It was dark outside, with trees lining along the road. The stars I saw out were swirling around my head, but so fast that you could only see them moving from the corner of your eye. Not directly looking at them after being crushed into Rico, I was then thrashed into my window. I felt Rico crashing his body into my side.

Oh. Wait. How was I supposed to stop? I was going full speed when I suddenly turned. I should really be less reckless sometimes. I heard Kowalski scream a little behind me, followed by Private giving a muffled yelp. That was the extent of my knowledge from what was happening to them. I had to stop somehow before we got into an accident.

Other than being thrashed around, I was in the same spot I started with. My hands were on the steering wheel, and my feet were near the pedals underneath me. Time to make all those defence driving obstacles worth it. I straightened the way my hands were gripping the wheel. The plastic circle straightened with them. Which just smacked me again towards Rico, but I managed to keep my hands pointed. Next was to stop moving. Should I try the brakes? Why not. I pulled my feet a little backward, to make sure they weren't stuck, and then slammed the left one on the brake.

It worked. Not well per say, but well enough. Rico's body was lunged forward, right into the windshield. It didn't break when he hit it, but his upper body kind of collapsed on the dashboard. He coughed a bit, which made me a little disgusted. When Rico coughs, it sounds like he's chocking on mucus. I don't think it was mucus this time. I felt a body smacking into my backseat hard, and I was lunged forward more than I would have. My chest was stopped by the steering wheel, but that was even more painful. It felt like a belly flop, actually. There was a sharp pain in my chest, like heartburn. I coughed, too, and it was a horrible burning sensation.

I looked behind me, too see if Kowalski and Private were okay. That was excruciating. Kowalski was the one who smacked into my chair. He had fallen back into his seat. He was in pain though, you could tell. His body looked like it had gone limp, and he was just staring up at the roof. I think he was thanking that it was over. Private was on the floor. He and Rico were never ones to wear seat belts, believe it or not. His forehead was red. I think from being thrashed around. His bow and arrows were still on the seat, thankfully. I realized how lucky it was that none of our pistols had fired off.

I took my first look through the windshield. I probably looked very professional. We ended up in the very middle of the road, perfectly. I actually expected us to hit a tree or something. In front of us, was a hot pink coloured van. There was no mistaking that for anything else besides something that only Assana would drive. She was blocking our way, which was just what I planned. Through my years of experience, I've learned a few things. One of them was that if you wanted to stay alive in an impossible situation, you have to do the unexpected.

"Ready men?" I called, weakly from my damaged diaphragm.

"Yee!" Rico answered. He gave me a fearless grin. I could see that his forehead was bleeding from his hit to the wind shield.

Kowalski coughed. "Don't think we can take a breather?" His voice sounded exhausted. I guess I can't blame him. We were being incredibly lazy the last two months. It was our own damn fault if we got tired quickly.

Private gave a little giggle. He wasn't even back in his seat yet. "Nope."

My foot slammed on the gas. We were heading straight forward. We were going to bluff it.

When I was younger I used to play the game bluff all the time. Two cars would go straight at each other, and we would just wait until one would turn. We got into a lot of accidents like that. Rico and I were always in one car. We were fearless that way. The last time I played was when I actually hit someone full on. See, there's a certain time in that game when turning won't help you at all. That's what happened. Rico and I hit this car full on, and it was a hell f an accident. We and the other guys were in hospital for months. I think I had gotten brain damage, five broken ribs, whiplash, and was temporarily paralyzed. Not counting the many blood wounds I forget what the other guys got.

Kowalski screamed a bit when he finally looked up at the wind shield. The hot pink van was coming up fast. From where I was, I could just barely see the outlines, and possibly hair, of four people in the van. Now or never, I tied to mentally say to them. If we go, you go. I couldn't flinch either. When you play a bluff, you can't hesitate. That's a rule. My arms stayed perfectly still. I was scared though. I didn't really want to have another trip to the hospital thanks to a bluff.

Kowalski was trying to grab the wheel pathetically. "Stop", he was trying to yell out. Rico was clutching his door handle like it was a lifeline. For a moment I thought he as going to flick it open and jump out. I couldn't exactly see what Private was doing. Maybe just closing his eyes and praying.

They swerved. It wash't a turn, but a swerve. One second they were in front of us, the next they were halfway to the edge of the street. I breathed out my gasp in relief. Their back wheels just got out of our way right as we past at full speed. I turned my line of sight just long enough to catch a glimpse of who was in the passengers seat. It was Assana. She was emotionless when I saw her. Her lips not even pursed into a duck face look. Just emotionless. Good or bad? I couldn't decide.

I eased my foot gently from the gas. The team all relaxed a little. Rico's knuckles were no longer white from clutching the door handle, but instead turning red again. Kowalski had retreated back to the back, now thankful from not having to hit a van at full speed. Private was shuffling into his seat. I hadn't even realized that he wasn't on his seat.

"Kowalski. Options."

* * *

AN: K, sorry it was so short. I had to get a chapter in here. So, the action probably wasn't that good. I'm sorry. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer.


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